Inside my Heart
by Gazlover12-Canada
Summary: Alfred realizes that something is very wrong with Arthur. He's determined to help him out of it, even if Arthur is trying everything to refuse his help. UsUk, eating disorder, rated T.
1. Chapter 1

Arthur Kirkland sat rigidly on a hard wooden chair, hands gripping the edge of the seat so hard that his knuckles were white. His forest green eyes were filled with trepidation, yet still he glared at the other person in the room. Alfred F. Jones only glared back, so harshly that Arthur was taken aback.

"Eat, Arthur. At least half of it." The American ordered sternly.

The Englishman dragged his gaze back to the plate in front of him. It was a simple plate of pasta, covered with a light amount of sauce and cheese. There was a small salad on the side. Just the smell of the food caused Arthur's stomach to twist violently, and he wanted to sick up, only there was nothing left to come out.

"I don't want to." He answered coldly, looking down at the table, avoiding both the gaze of the food as well as the person who had put it there.

"You aren't getting up until you eat Arthur," Alfred told him matter of factly. "It's been too long. This isn't healthy, not even for a nation."

"Stop telling me what to do!" Arthur snapped. "I'm not eating this disgusting meal."

All food disgusted him now. It was all so sickening, and the feeling of it inside him was just awful. He was already too lazy and unfit to begin with. No longer an empire, he was weak. Eating food would only make him fat, which would lead to more weakness. All the nations already made fun of him for his ex-empire state, so he didn't need them to joke about his weight too.

That's why he stopped eating. At first it was hard, going to bed every night and listening to his stomach whine and beg for food. He'd had the willpower to avoid food though, and he hadn't had a meal for almost two months. For a human they would probably be close to death. Lucky for him, he was a nation. He wasn't dead, but he was terribly tiny and skinny.

Arthur didn't notice that though. The more he stopped eating and started running and exercising, the more he felt good. In no time at all he would be strong again, maybe as fit as America. He didn't understand how Alfred could eat so much McDonald's and still be so fit. It was apparently a gift that had never been bestowed upon Arthur.

"Dammit Arthur, you eat right now or I'll take you straight to the hospital. They'll force you to eat, so you better make a choice right now!" Alfred threatened him, banging his hands on the table.

At the world meeting in New York just a few days ago, it had been the first time Arthur had seen any nation in a long time. Apparently they all noticed something was wrong, even Alfred, who was famous for not seeing or sensing the mood.

The stupid American had cornered him and started interrogating him. After he discovered that Arthur wasn't eating, he'd forced him to stay in America with him, not letting him go home until he was at a normal weight. He'd even had the nerve to call Arthur's boss!

"I hate you!" Arthur spat, scooting back from the table. "I hate _you_, and I hate your _stupid_ spaghetti! _Fuck you_!"

With that, he angrily shoved the plate off the table. It hit the floor with a smash, spilling the contents all over the floor. For a moment there was silence. Neither nation knew what to do next. Finally Alfred pinched the bridge of his nose, something that he usually never did.

"Arthur..." He said slowly. "This is your last chance. If you can eat one banana then I won't bother you for the rest of the night. Can you do that for me?"

"W-why are you doing this to me?" Arthur sniffled. "I don't want to eat, Alfred. Just leave me alone!"

"I'm doing this because you're starving yourself Artie! I can see your fucking ribs! Hell, you were already too skinny even before you stopped eating! I hate that you're doing this to yourself, so you've left me no choice but to help you get better! But if you won't let me then I'll take you to a hospital. They'll force you to eat Arthur. Do you want to be strapped down and have a tube shoved down your throat? I don't want to see that happen, but I'll do it if it'll get you food." Alfred said. It was probably the longest and most serious thing Arthur had ever heard him say.

Arthur certainly didn't want to be forced into eating at a hospital. But he also didn't want to eat here. Why did Alfred always have to get into everybody's business? It wasn't fair. It was his body, so he should treat it however he wanted. He was finally getting skinny and fit! Sure, he got dizzy spells on occasion, but he was finally feeling good about himself. Feeling trapped, his lip trembled and his green eyes watered.

"I'll eat the banana," He muttered brokenly.

"Good," Alfred said, a smile. "Alright...let me get it for you."

Alfred crossed the kitchen and went to the fruit bowl on the counter. He took out the best banana he could find and returned to Arthur's side. He even took the liberty to peel it for him. He held it out expectantly for the Brit to take. After a moment of hesitation, Arthur took the banana from him. Alfred grinned and ruffled his hair.

"Good job Arthur. I'll even have a banana with you, okay? Then we can watch a movie and go to sleep." Alfred told him cheerfully as he got a banana for himself and sat next to Arthur, watching him intently.

For a few moments Arthur stared at the banana. His eyes leaked hot tears, staining his pale cheeks. Finally he took a tiny bite off the top of the banana. The taste seemed to burn his tongue, and he felt nauseous.

"You're okay Arthur," Alfred soothed, rubbing his back encouragingly.

Arthur refused to answer him, taking another bite that was a bit larger. He wanted to get this over with. Once he finished he could just run to the bathroom and throw it back up. Alfred would never know, and then things would be okay.

When he got halfway through, he felt much too full and sick.

"Please can I be done? I can't do it..." He whimpered.

"Sorry Arthur, but we agreed that you would finish the banana." Alfred answered apologetically.

"I d-don't want it, and I h-hate you!" Arthur whispered harshly, but took another bite.

Hours seemed to pass. Alfred had long since finished his banana, having eaten it in practically two bites. With every mouthful, Arthur felt himself dying inside. The feeling of having food inside him...it was awful. He felt disgusting. That's all he was..a pathetic disgusting little island nation.

When he was done, he tossed the peal on the table and glared downwards.

"Good job Artie!" Alfred praised him, as if he were some small child.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Was all Arthur replied with. He was about to get up but a hand clamped down on his wrist.

"No." Alfred ordered firmly.

"N-no?" Arthur was taken aback.

"That's right, no." Alfred told him. "Because then you'll throw it back up. I know how eating disorders work. If you really need to pee then I'll go in with you."

_How does he know_? How could Alfred read him so well? Feeling frustrated and out of control, he trembled and cried.

"Please Alfred!" He begged. "I need it out!"

"I'm sorry Arthur," Alfred said emotionlessly. "I can't let you. This is for your own good."

For a moment Arthur could only sit there, before suddenly he began to panic. "No!" He lept from the chair, causing it to fall over and hit the floor. He made a mad dash towards the bathroom. He had an advantage since he was closer to the door. However, he only made it halfway there before two strong arms wrapped around his waist, preventing him from moving.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Arthur cried out as he was pulled into a gentle yet firm hug, his face being pressed into the American nation's shoulder.

"I'm not doing this to you Arthur. You're doing this to yourself." Alfred responded sadly, closing his eyes and burying his nose into Arthur's hair.

For a moment nothing else was said. All that could be heard was Arthur's panting. Just running into another room had exhausted him, which proved Alfred's point. However, he wasn't going to give up yet. With his free arm, the Brit attempted to stick his fingers down his throat right that very moment.

"Arthur, stop it!" Alfred yelled, grabbing his wrist and forcing it to his side. "That's _enough_!"

Eventually he realized that struggling was futile. America had won. There was no way that he could get it out of him. When his failure dawned on him, Arthur cried harder than he had all day. He was weak, tired, and _full_. To him, it was the worst combination ever.

"Come on, let's get you to bed," Alfred said after a few minutes of holding the shorter man. The Brit allowed himself to be more or less carried up the long row of stairs, and then settled into bed.

Once he was positive that Arthur was sleeping, Alfred stepped out of the room, leaving the door open a crack so he could hear if the other awoke. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number of someone who he knew would be of help.

"Hi Al," Matthew Williams, also known as Canada, answered on the second ring. "How are things? Is Arthur doing any better?"

Matthew was one of the few to know about Arthur's recently developed problem. The only other nation to know was Francis. He'd wanted to come along with Alfred to help, but Alfred had figured that it would be best if only he stayed with Arthur at first. Too many people would only stress him, which wouldn't help the situation at all.

"Not so good," Alfred admitted. "I had to fight tooth and nail just to get him to eat a banana. I stopped him from going to the bathroom to vomit it...but he even tried sticking his fingers down his throat right in my arms! It's a real problem Mattie..."

"Have you considered taking him to a hospital?" The Canadian asked.

"I've used that as a threat a few times, but that's really something I'd rather avoid. I can't bear to think of him institutionalized because of this..." Alfred replied.

"I know Al, but if it's that serious..."

"It's be for his own good, yeah, yeah." Alfred finished the sentence. "But I'll give him a few more chances to prove to me that he can get better. If not then I'll actually consider it."

"When do you want me and Francis to come down?" Matthew asked.

"If things get better then in a week or two. If not, then I dunno." Alfred told him. "Hey, I'd better go clean up. He threw his spaghetti all over the floor."

"Okay. Um...Al? I think it's good that you're helping him." Matthew said with hesitation. "You know, since you're the one person who would understand."

"Let's not talk about that." Alfred said quickly. "So yeah, gotta go clean up! Talk to ya' later bro!"

With that, he quickly hung up the phone and sighed, quietly going back to the guest room where Arthur slept. The English nation was so skinny and pale, with dark circles under his eyes. His body was practically invisible underneath the thick mass of sheets and blankets. If not for the straw colored mop of hair sticking out of the covers then Alfred wouldn't have noticed him.

"I'm going to help you Artie," He whispered determinedly. "We'll fix this together..."

**a/n: Let me know if you liked it and would want another chapter please! By the way, schools out so I'll have more time to update and write now!**


	2. Chapter 2

In the morning, once again Arthur found himself seated at Alfred's kitchen table. He had an intense feeling of dread, mostly because of the fact that Alfred was overly cheerful, even for his usual self. He was humming rather obnoxiously as he paraded around the kitchen. Arthur refused to look at him, but he could hear the sounds of plates and glasses clinking as they were likely filled with food.

Earlier this morning he'd taken a relaxing bath. While in there he'd tried to rid himself of last night's food, but nothing came up. He'd been too late, as the food had already digested, just like Alfred had wanted. Arthur couldn't understand why Alfred was doing all of this to him. He wasn't the American's responsibility, and he could certainly take care of himself. Before Alfred intervened he'd been on the verge of being thin and fit!

"You're going to like this today Artie!" The devil himself spoke as he made his way over, a large dish balanced in one hand. He set a platter in front of the Brit. It was full of a large variety of fruits. Kiwi, mango, grapes, blueberries, strawberries, and more. They were all sliced up delicately. Arthur's eyes widened. Did he have to eat this whole mountain of fruit?

"For breakfast, you have to have five pieces of fruit. Easy, right?" Alfred told him. Arthur didn't waste any time reaching for the smallest, the blueberries. Before he could, his hand was grabbed. "Hold on a moment, I'm not finished. Since blueberries are so small, you have to eat five of them to count as a whole fruit."

Arthur did the math in his head and cursed. He would have to eat 25 blueberries! No, that was certainly not happening.

"That's not fair!" He spat. "I'm not eating any of this damned fruit."

"Fruit is good for you Arthur. It's really healthy, and we need it to stay strong." Alfred notified him.

"It has sugar," Arthur said as he folded his arms stubbornly.

"Not the same kind of sugar that they put in junk food," Alfred told him. "Please Arthur, just work with me here. All I'm asking is five pieces of fruit. Five slices if you want to get technical. Now is that so bad?"

"Yes," Arthur answered, and then decided to negotiate. "I'll eat one piece."

"Nope, I said five. While you're here, you're going to do what I say. My house, my rules." Alfred said stubbornly.

"Then let me leave!" Arthur snapped.

"Not until we fix this."

"There's nothing to be fixed!"

As usual, it ended in a large argument. Alfred won of course, much to Arthur's hurt pride. The American had said that if Arthur wasn't going to pick out his fruit then he'd do it for him. So then he was stuck with two slices of kiwi, half a strawberry, and two grapes. Not to mention, there was also a large glass of milk waiting for him as well.

He kicked and screamed like a two year old, fighting Alfred the whole way. Alfred held each piece to his lips, using his strength to keep Arthur in place as he was fed like a child. Worst of all, he was forced to finish every last drop of the milk.

"You're doing great Arthur!" Alfred encouraged, running his fingers through Arthur's hair, which was still damp from his bath. "I promise this will help you. We'll have you better in no time."

Arthur was beyond comprehension. He sobbed brokenly, pleading to use the bathroom. Of course he was denied, and then forced to stay seated for one hour in the chair. Twenty minutes in he tried sticking his fingers down his throat. Alfred caught him and restrained his hands, holding them in his own.

"Arthur, I really need you to listen to me," Alfred whispered, tilting the Brit's chin up so he could look him in the eyes. "I know how hard this is. I really do."

"No you don't," Arthur said hoarsely, avoiding his gaze. "Nobody does."

"I do," Alfred repeated. "Because I went through something really similar."

Arthur's eyes snapped back to meet Alfred's sky blue eyes, which were filled with memory and sadness. "W-what?"

"Nobody really knew about it for awhile. I did a lot of binge-eating and purging. It started out small, but it gradually got worse. Mattie eventually found out and he helped me. I hated him for doing it at first, but then when I got better I couldn't thank him enough." Alfred explained all in one breath. It looked like it had been a struggle for him to say it, which was the truth.

Alfred hadn't told anyone about that phase, ever. Matthew was the only one to know, and he promised to keep it confidential. "It took awhile, but now I'm fine. I eat whatever I want to. I just make sure to balance it out. Maybe McDonald's for lunch, and something healthy for dinner. I go running three times a week and I go to the gym too."

Arthur was at a loss to say. The thought of the food in his belly was gone, and instead only Alfred was in his mind. Why hadn't Alfred consulted him? He would have helped him! Poor Matthew as well, having to take that burden all by himself.

"I...I'm sorry." Arthur found himself saying, eyes brimming with fresh tears.

"That's over now," Alfred said with a small smile. "Now we have to help you. Do you understand Arthur? It's a really dangerous thing, even for a nation. Personally I think you were perfect before you started this whole thing."

"No...not perfect," Arthur murmured sadly.

"Yes, absolutely perfect," Alfred disagreed. "Beautiful soft hair, gorgeous green eyes, light flawless skin, a cute face" He touched the tip of Arthur's nose. "...that's all perfect to me."

Alfred's words made Arthur's heart flutter. He didn't know how he could possibly respond to that, so he was only able to blush and look anywhere but into those sparkling blue eyes. Alfred wasn't done however. He took one of Arthur's small frail hands into his own.

"Will you let me help you Arthur?" He asked in his soft, gentle tone.

Now, unable to look away from the other nation, Arthur found himself nodding slowly.

"A-Alright."

He didn't really want to get better that much, since nothing was too wrong in his mind, but Alfred had persuaded him, just like that.

"Excellent Arthur! You did the right thing!" Alfred said in his usual enthusiastic and loud manor. He then did another unexpected thing. The American leaned in closer and quickly pecked Arthur on the lips. "Now why don't we go for a walk around the neighborhood? They say that nature plays a part in being healthy too!"

While Alfred went to get their jackets, Arthur sat there in stunned silence. He brought his fingers up to feel his lips, and suddenly his stomach got this warm fluttery feeling.

* * *

The rest of the day went by quickly, too quickly in Arthur's opinion. Alfred had taken him on a walk through the neighborhood, holding his hand the whole time. When they got back Arthur was feeling a lot more exhausted than he should have felt, mostly due to lack of nutrients. He laid on the couch, a little fearful since it was now lunchtime. Alfred was in the kitchen making it, and he had no idea what he would be forced to eat.

Unfortunately it didn't take long for the American to make it at all. "I thought we could go with regular subs today. Now before you say anything, let me tell you about these subs. Whole grain bread, a bit of ham, and some veggies. Nothing else, so it's perfectly healthy and delicious."

"D-do I have to eat a whole one?" Arthur asked in trepidation.

"Nope, just half!" Alfred promised. "But you have to eat the whole thing, and you also need to drink a glass of milk with it. Deal?"

Arthur sighed. Even if he didn't agree, he'd still have to eat it anyway. There was no winning in his stay here. "Deal."

As he slowly ate his half-sub, Arthur tried to concentrate on Alfred's voice rather than the food that was making it's way down to his stomach. The smaller veggies weren't that bad, but the bread was making him awfully full. Being full would make him fat, and then he'd never be the strong nation that he once was. Was it just him, or did the tomatoes keep reappearing on his sub? What if this was a hoax, and no matter what he would never be finished? Perhaps it was Alfred's plan all along, to subdue him into stuffing himself and growing even more fat and weak. He needed to stop eating right now, oh lord the room was getting dizzy!

"Arthur...ARTHUR!"

He was stirred out of his panic by two hands holding his face. "Hey, calm down. Shh, you're alright. Everything's alright..."

"No, it's not leaving! Make it go away!" Arthur yelled, jerking away from the other's hold to bury his hands in his face.

"What's not leaving? God Artie, you're sweating like crazy."

"The food!" Arthur cried. "It's not leaving. I keep eating and it's not going, and _fuck_ I hate this! I can't...I can't! Alfred, _I can't_!"

"Stop it Arthur, and listen to me," His face was gripped again. "You're fine. More than halfway done, in fact. Now stop it before you make yourself sick and just breath. In and out, okay?"

Arthur did as he was told. Minutes passed by as he slowly came back to reality. Once he was deemed calm enough, Alfred let go and sat back down. Arthur realized that he'd been right...he was actually almost done with his lunch. Only a few more bites left, and plus his milk was halfway gone. He was actually getting sick of milk. Alfred kept stressing calcium, for his bones and shit like that. He hoped that water would be an eventual drink option in the future.

"Look Art, you're all done! That wasn't so hard, was it?" Alfred announced a few minutes later.

"Yes," Arthur replied softly. "Um...I'm terribly tired from our walk. Can I go lie down for a bit?"

"Arthur...look at me." Alfred said slowly. Arthur met Alfred's gaze. "If I let you go take a short nap, do you promise you won't try to throw it back up? You know the rules. No bathroom for at least an hour, but I doubt that would stop you form doing it in your room. So I need your promise."

"Yes, I promise. I wont throw up my food." Arthur told him.

"Alright then...let me walk you there."

When he was in his room, Arthur at first sat on the bed, looking towards the window. It was such a beautiful day outside...with the birds chirping and the sound of children riding their bicycles. Here he was inside...full and quickly gaining calories and fat from his food. If only he were outside like those children, getting exercise and burning off their fat.

Wait a moment...he could still do that. Alfred never said anything about not exercising. Something told him that he wasn't supposed to, but that didn't stop him.

He quietly sat on the floor and began with some situps...

**Sorry that this took a few days! I started a fantasy story, and plus I've been working on some more Worth It stuff! **

**By the way, I'm trying to slowly add the romance stuff...I'm use to writing family fics (Like Worth It stuff) so hopefully I don't do awful with their relationship in this.**

**I'll be getting lots of writing done! I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately, so it gives me time to type. It's a little frightening though, since I can't ever fall asleep before five am. Eh, sorry for the rambling. Hope the chapter wasn't too weird or anything! I think I'll go drink some warm milk or something and try to get some sleep.**


End file.
